


The Nights in Nordberg are cold

by Ramul



Category: Overlord (Triumph Video Games)
Genre: Audience, F/M, Table Sex, imaginary sex, kind of rapeish, silly request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:14:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21538084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ramul/pseuds/Ramul
Summary: The Nordbergian peasant who brought the news of the troublemakers in Nordhaven and wanted to borrow Kelda as a bedwarmer as a reward goes into a different hole than the one in the throne room as punishment, making his imagination do its work during the process.
Relationships: Random Nordbergian/Brown Minion, Random Nordbergian/Imaginary Kelda
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	The Nights in Nordberg are cold

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written in 2013, and probably the least weird of the explicit stuff written by me so far.

This place was built in a fashion to instill fear, and it achieved it well. Black, gleaming rock in the shape of spikes adorned with strange runes and waving banners, pointy architecture reaching upwards with narrow hallways in between, illuminated by the everywhere-present lava streams gave Joern the feeling of wandering into the maw of a gigantic hellbeast ready to crush him between its jaws. The little brown creatures leering at him from the corners of this place didn't make him feel any better.

But he had important information for the one who lived in this hellish place.

After a terrifying ride on one of the floating rocks that circled around the tower, defying anything Joern knew about the behaviour of rocks, he was in the throne room, walking in between two rows of the creatures that inhabited most of the place. These were larger than the ones scuttling about and armed with bizarre, toothed helmets and polished halberds, but it was the sight of what was behind this row of guards that made his heart sink into his knees. The room was large, with a strange pit in the middle and a hellish contraption consisting of spikes above, illuminated in a blue light. Behind it was the large, spiky throne, surrounded by lava streams and the back wall decorated with something Joern's eyes wanted to make look like a monstrous, armoured demon. On this throne was the metal-clad man sitting he came for, with an old, robed creature standing left of him. A very familiar sight seemed totally out of place in this underworld, though; Kelda. The woman he secretly loved. His escorts guided him into the center of the pit, right below the glowing spikes, where they left him, stepping back giggling.

„ _Speak.“_

As this single word was spoken in a low, thundering voice, the chittering of the brown creatures in the throne room instantly died away and even the roaring of the lava falls outside seemed to grow quieter. Joern was short of running away now, with the multiple pairs of eyes on him. He glanced shortly at Kelda, who was looking at him now, and as if this inspired him with courage, he brought out a stammer.

„Begging your pardon, Dark Lord, but I thought you should know something. There are some troublemakers in Nordberg. They are planning to steal the town's food supplies and sail out of Nordhaven in one of our- I mean, _your_ ships.“ It was out, and he was still alive. The Overlord was staring at him, with unmoving, glowing eyes, saying nothing. Empowered by this lack of punishment and in a sudden attack of stupidity, Joern added „Um, also, eh, you wouldn't be able to lend me Mistress Kelda, would you?“ He gave the woman, who stared back at him with a raised eyebrow, a second look. „The nights in Nordberg are very cold and lonely, you know...“

He regretted his words immediately after they were out. He shrunk together in the pit he was standing, expecting the armoured man in front of him to fry him with lightning or the spines above to rush down and impale him. But neither happened, which was far more frightening to him. The Overlord was skewering him with his stare, still unmoving. Everything in the room was silent, all eyes were on him. The air seemed to become laden with energy. Joern looked at Kelda again, and swallowed. Then, after seemingly endless seconds, the silence broke.

„ _Out.“_

Joern ran, as if the Midwinter demons themselves were after his heels. He stumbled multiple times, the brown creatures were laughing, he could still feel the Overlord's stare on his back. As he reached the floating rocks, he heard an old, raspy voice talking and believed to hear the word „punishment“ in there. Then a rock arrived, he jumped on it and the laughter of the creatures and the raspy voice died down in the distance, swallowed by the ever-present roar of the lava falls.

Back in his own hut in Nordberg, he was staring into the flames of his chimney, still shivering from fear of this encounter. What was he _thinking_? Did he really expect the Overlord would be giving Kelda, _his_ Kelda to him, just for a little bit of information? The woman he pretty much razed Nordberg for, killed Imperials and Nordbergians alike, which culminated in the end of Borius' reign? He was sitting there, shivering and waiting for the punishment to come. The Overlord wouldn't just let him go after this audacity. Oh Kelda...

A knocking on his door made him jump with a shriek. He ran around the large oaken table in the middle of the room, thinking of how he could escape that. Whoever knocked, they now knew he was at home. Possibly they were also guarding the windows, making sure he didn't escape, and if he stayed inside...

Showly, his whole body shaking, his legs carried him to the door. He assumed he would die in the least painful way if he just cooperated. The knocking returned again, louder this time. Joern stumbled to the door, fumbled on the bar and opened it.

One of the guardians stood in front of it, clad in black furs and clothes and with an oversized, tufted helmet that reached up to Joern's chest. Joern jumped back, stumbling, until his back collided with the table's border and he couldn't get away further. The guardian walked slowly inside, closing the door behind him and putting the bar into its place. Then he faced Joern again, a devilish shimmer in his sulphur-yellow eyes.

„Master told me to punish you for that today. Said, can pick how.“

Joern gasped, and knew it was over now. He knew how sadistic these little creatures were. The guardian turned one last time around to lean the halberd he was carrying against the door and then slowly walked with outstretched claws and a leer in his eyes towards Joern, who was panting from terror, but unable to do anything, neither to defend himself nor to run. Then, the guardian reached him and grabbed Joern by the legs, while staring into his eyes through the maw of the strange helmet he wore. He licked his lips and took the helmet off, dropping it on the floor next to the table. The look on the guardian's face made Joern crawl backwards over the table, until the creature's claws dug itself into his right leg.

„Will stay right here,“ he giggled, his voice hoarser than before. „Will be fun.“

'But only for you', Joern thought, but shut up this time. He had only to hope that the guardian was going to kill him quickly and abuse his corpse instead of torturing him while still alive. One hand still around his leg, the guardian opened Joern's belt, pulled down his pants and suddenly had his hand around Joern's manhood.

'He is going to castrate me. Or to mutilate me on that part I had thought with when I said these stupid words', Joern thought, being close to panicking. Possibly he would still live after being mutilated and emasculated, as a warning, he hoped. But the pain didn't come. Instead, the hand seemed to...stroke him? It rubbed with slow and gentle movements over his member, with the rough skin being only slightly unpleasant. Joern was completely bewildered. He had expected to be cut slowly into pieces, to be eaten alive, to have every bone in his body broken, but this... Still unable to say anything or act, he just stared at the guardian working him and his manhood reacting to the caresses. Then, as it had risen, the creature jumped onto the table, his feet planted left and right from Joern's waist, as he pulled up his loincloth into the belt, revealing Joern everything that was hidden underneath. Joern was staring at the guardian's now openly visible parts, as he, no, _she_ went onto her knees and then lowered herself onto him, with one hand holding his manhood in the right position. A twitch on her grinning face, and he was engulfed in tight, moist warmth. He was still unable to move and had a mixture of feelings coursing through his head and body, fear, disgust, pleasure and helplessness, as the guardian repeatedly slid up and down on him, her inner musculature contracting itself rhythmically around his member. Out of anything else he could do, Joern closed his eyes to not see this terrifying, grinning face of the creature... and imagined Kelda in her place.

Kelda, who had happily agreed to come with him and warm him in the cold, lonely Nordbergian nights. Kelda, who wanted a pause from the Overlord and confessed his secret love to him. Kelda, whose perfect body was now riding him, her round, perky breasts jumping up and down and her strong inner muscles, trained over years in her hunting adventures, were now stroking his manhood. Joern grinned at this mental image, his hands relaxing from the cramped grip around the table's borders and going upwards to stroke Kelda's smooth, firm, muscular thighs, but the rough texture of the legs he touched didn't match up...then the mental image flickered and her legs were covered by a multitude of scars, acquired in her many hunting trips. He continued to stroke up and down those wonderful thighs, not going higher, as he knew this would break the illusion he was shaping...

Now Kelda was talking to him, moaning his name, wanting to go faster. Joern broke further out of his petrification, shifted his legs a bit and began to answer her sliding movements with upward thrusts. The rough groan he actually heard was overshadowed by Kelda's squeal of delight.

„Joern, you were always the one I wanted“, he heard Kelda say. „Give me your best. Do me the hardest you can.“

„Yes... harder...“ Joern answered her, a broad grin plastered across his face. Kelda grinned back, and increased the pace, throwing her head back with pleasure and shaking her beautiful red hair. She cupped her bouncing breasts and started rubbing her nipples, giving him a leering glance. Joern knew that he couldn't just reach up and touch those wonderful breasts himself, but the sight of Kelda on top of him and the soft, warm flesh around his manhood would soon bring him over the edge. As he felt the urge building up, Joern's fingers dug themselves into Kelda's thighs, pushing her down, while he roughly slammed into her. She stopped moving herself, and bent over with her hands planted next to his chest.

„Oh...Joern...“ she moaned, and violent convulsions ran along his manhood and through her whole body. At the sight of her twitching, enjoying him as well as from the feeling of her orgasm around him he reached his own climax, planting his seed deep inside her. Maybe a fine child would be sired from this little adventure, a little girl with her mother's beautiful red hair-

Then, as the intensity of his climax faded and his eyelids cracked open, the illusion he built for himself shattered. Instead of Kelda, it was the brown-skinned creature sitting on top of him, heavily panting, with her hands placed on both sides of him on the table and with his manhood buried deep inside her. But even this sight couldn't wipe the smile from his face, as it was Kelda who he had been doing on his table, not her.

„Told you, will be fun“, the creature told, giving him a devilish grin. With this she got up, Joern's member sliding out of her and dropping on his thigh. The creature pulled her loincloth into place again and picked up the helmet where she had dropped it. Joern himself got up into a sitting position to put his pants back on, after which he wiped his hands on his vest. Looking up again, he only could see his door being closed. As he got up from the table to put back the bar in front of the door, he started to laugh.

The Overlord wanted to give him punishment. Little did the new conqueror of Nordberg know, as Joern indeed had loved his red-haired mistress tonight.


End file.
